Nov 06, 2013 10:29
The geometry of communication is all around us: all of the things we interact with have defined shapes that afford us the ability to use them. But what are programs themselves shaped like? The ones and zeros coming down a wire? The byte codes that the Intel speaks? The words a programmer types in? I'm not satisfied with any of these answers - I heard once that "programming languages are data structures for the algorithm called 'programming'" and that resonated particularly well with me.
Buildings are communication also: the tall, powerful courthouse, near the harsh concrete reality of the jail. We step into buses, find the familiar shape of seats, and sit down while the engine does twists and the articulation turns - it's a design borne of the need to move many people efficiently. Move past huge storefronts, with bright windows so you can see in and shop without entering - they're designed by people who want you to consume, often mindlessly.
Every morning I have the opportunity to ride by an architecture firm run by a Borges, and I always want to ask them for a labyrinth. Some day I might, but for now, I'm content with the fact that life in a city is a human labyrinth of messages sent, too often left unacknowledged. Spend enough time around the right people and you'll get embedded in the context and become a message all your own. Change your shape and the message you send is affected too. The biggest question now remains: how do we know what any of it means?
communism,
words,
geometry